


Tom Riddle Hates Social Media

by limeta



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Muggle, Alternate Universe - Normal High School, Awkward Flirting, Boyfriends, Established Relationship, Fluff and Humor, Literally no magic except Tom can still talk to snakes, M/M, Peer Pressure, Social Media, Teenagers, and that isn't explained
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-26
Updated: 2020-03-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:14:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22913842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/limeta/pseuds/limeta
Summary: Muggle AU: Abraxas Malfoy and Tom Riddle try to bond before their last year of secondary school.  While doing so they witness the aftermath of a murder.
Relationships: Abraxas Malfoy/Tom Riddle
Comments: 19
Kudos: 36
Collections: Chamber of Secrets' Winter Exchange (2019)





	1. Before Countryside

**Author's Note:**

  * For [edvic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/edvic/gifts).



Let the preface here be that Tom Riddle is a very poor individual, who’s had the same phone since he’s known about self-identity. And he, being who he is, has known about self-identity for a very, very long time.

But his foster caretaker has decided to splurge on him because he’s in his last year of secondary school and it’s unfathomable for him not to have a smartphone in this day and age.

’’I’m really used to it.’’ Now, Tom, being who he is, dislikes all form of social media and finds that not having a smartphone has helped him stay out of the nitty-gritty’s of life online. However, with this new phone and all of its features put into his lap, he’s going to have no proper excuse to get his vain friends to piss off. Not to confuse this as him insulting vanity, because he really isn’t – he’s very vain himself. What Tom is doing in this moment is insulting everyone else except for himself and his very good, albeit eccentric boyfriend.

When he puts his SIM card into this new phone, one with more screen than buttons, and boots it up – he sees that he’s got two missed calls from Abraxas (probably going on about how his birds are sick), three messages from Walburga Black (whom he’s sworn he’s blocked, yet she keeps finding burner phones to ruin his mood), and fifteen messages scattered among his Knights (he’s in a fencing club). Overall it’s not a bad turn out.

For the first time in his life he sends a whatsapp message. Usually he’s just told everyone he’s too poor to text them back, and at their prompt if he’s got whatsapp had to sheepishly tell them that he’s got a Nokia for a phone and that he doesn’t understand why they’ve allowed to be enslaved by the button-less smartphones. Tom quite likes the proper use of a phone: the call option. Possibly a text message if one’s got lots of money. Which an orphan doesn’t mind you. Well, Tom’s got things saved up on the side because of his many stipends, but people really don’t need to know that. That’s between his bank and himself.

He makes one group on whatsapp, using a youtube tutorial, and shoves all of his Knights into it. He adds Abraxas there because he likes Abraxas and his childhood therapist has told him that when he finds people he’s fond of to surround himself with said people the most. He really ought to get a new therapist because nobody believes him that he can talk to snakes. Or maybe he should just not mention that to the next one. Telling people he can talk to snakes has not worked out for him. His profile picture is non-existent. His status is non-existent. Tom Riddle thinks that it’s the most on brand thing for himself.

Tom Riddle: What is the matter with all of you?

Thoros Nott: Can we steal you away tonight to study? I’ve got rugby practise tomorrow.

Abraxas: I don’t know why you even play, Thoros, you’re very bad.

Abraxas: HI TOM!

Tom dislikes there not being an option to heart a person’s reply, because now he’s got to take out time out of his day to write a proper hello to Abraxas.

Tom Riddle: Hello, Abraxas.

Abraxas: :D

Tom remembers seeing a meme once online with golden retrievers. He finds it oddly fitting.

Lestrange: Thoros is the worst on the team and we need him because of his mummy’s money.

Avery: It’s our A levels next, gents, we need to take those seriously. We really need to take this entire year seriously... Tom, can you help us out? We’ll pay you!!

Orion Black (Walburga’s unfortunate kin): hey, riddle, did you get a new phone?

Ten messages follow about everyone wondering what Tom’s new phone is. Very leisurely, Tom removes himself from the group. He’s very tired of people only hanging around him for his tutoring capabilities. At first it’s only boasted his ego and made him feel untouchable, but the more he’s given it thought the less he’s certain that when they all graduate any of these finks will stick around. And if one wants to build an empire they need reliable people to do so.

Abraxas sends him a text message. Tom instantly answers it. 

Thoros sends him a message. Tom instantly decides not to answer it.

It’s chilly outside so Tom gets his coat and goes to find where Abraxas says he is. He rather misses the fink. Apparently he’s gone on a _very_ turbulent adventure this summer, in the Cote d’Azur. How turbulent an adventure can be when you’re with your parents on holiday fails to crystalize itself to Tom, but he won’t deny that Abraxas is a magnet for chaos.

* * *

And Abraxas is in a car. He nearly runs Tom over.

Tom kicks his tire. Because logically he knows that if he scratches the car he’s never going to be able to afford to fix it. Abraxas’ parents don’t like Tom, yet. He doesn’t need a reason for that yet to elongate itself even more.

’’I am _not_ getting into that thing.’’

’’I’ve got a licence!’’

Tom squints suspiciously. Abraxas shows him the licence. The evidence is overwhelming, Tom, still squinting, climbs into the passenger seat. Abraxas is smiling very widely. In the backseat there’s two peacocks. ’’Abraxas, why are your birds here?’’

’’I’ve got to take them to the vet.’’

’’And your many servants can’t do this because?’’

’’My parents want them to die.’’

’’Ah right. The joy of having parents.’’

* * *

The entire time while Abraxas is driving, Tom keeps thinking about death and dying. When they reach the vet, Tom gets out of the vehicle with unbeknown speed, and refuses to ever be driven by Abraxas anywhere.

’’Goodness, Tom, you make me sound as if I wanted to drive you to your death!’’

Tom is not proud of this moment, but he does involuntarily make a hissing sound that sounds a lot like a man very angrily telling the other, non-hissing man to piss off into oblivion. To Abraxas, however, it merely sounds like a hiss. His boyfriend’s always been able to talk to snakes. It’s just a thing that nobody can explain. Walburga Black has tried. She really has. People think that she’s become a biologist just to find out what sort of creature Tom Riddle is. Nobody wants to tell her that she’s hit the wrong mark with the profession. She’s a few years older than them, but she’s more home than at uni so everyone still unfortunately sees plenty of her.

Whilst at the vet, Tom is holding the albino peacock and soothingly ruffling its feathers. Meanwhile, Abraxas is heavily crying over the other peacock.

’’I can’t believe you’re going to Cambridge to study maths. Even though you’re a certified genius, sometimes you’re too silly for that to shine through.’’

’’Why is it maths in our language and math in America?’’

Tom sighs. ’’Because Americans cannot spell, Abraxas, we’ve gone over this.’’

’’Seems too big of a generalisation to make about a whole country, though? Don’t you think?’’ Abraxas is thankfully using this to distract himself from the underlining doom of taking his pets to the vet. Tom, being a good boyfriend, will humour him. But at what cost? At what cost, he wonders as she stares into the joyless eyes of the albino peacock in his lap. It pecks him straight in the nose. Tom is in so much pain.

Abraxas is up next and Tom helps him usher the peacocks into the office. The vet looks at Abraxas and then at Tom and then only after doing this does he take a look at the peacocks. ’’My happy couple’s back.’’ He comments.

Tom has a lot of things to say about this inappropriate comment until he realises that, right, Abraxas’ peacocks are somehow gay. The odds amaze him. Because Abraxas has peahens on Malfoy properties. But the peahens are apparently very stale in personality, like bread. Or so Tom’s been told. He, personally, likes bread. It’s sustenance.

Abraxas grabs hold of Tom’s hand and leans on him for support. Tom purses his lips and allows this act of terror to be done on him.

’’My babies.’’

’’When my snake was sick you called it nature taking its normal course of action.’’

’’Nagini was very old, Tom. That snake, were it a person, could have fought in World War II. Your snake was _Partisan_ old.’’ Then, because Abraxas is a good person deep down inside, ’’May it rest in peace.’’

’’Thank you.’’ Tom whispers. Abraxas leans even harder on Tom then. Tom’s lips twitch upward in a small, unexpected smile.

The peacocks have missed a shot. That’s the entire debacle.

’’I asked my parents, Tom, I _did_. I asked them to take care of my birds and they said they would make proper arrangements in our abscence.’’ Huffy: ’’They obviously did not. Ergo, I’m going to put my parents in a nursing home.’’ Abraxas says and happily croons at his birds as Tom opens the doors for him. Holding two peacocks under one’s arms makes for an interesting sight, but Abraxas doesn’t mind. He’s a rugby player at Hogwarts and has the physical strength of multiple Tom Riddles.

’’So, are you still going to be a surgeon?’’

’’I’m considering IT.’’ Tom’s eyes are glued on the road and his pulse is quickening in a pace that is not medically sound.

’’Why?’’ Abraxas laughs. He’s checking the rear-view mirror. After they unload the birds at Malfoy Manor, Abraxas has sworn to take Tom out on a proper date.

’’I need the job security, Abraxas.’’ Tom whispers and drums his hands against the glove compartment. He glances over to Abraxas’ feet and watches him drive with immense ease. ’’You had to have had lots of lessons, right?’’

’’I’ll teach you to drive if you like, Tom.’’ Abraxas winks and looks away from the road. Tom knows he’s quite handsome, but he doesn’t want to die because his looks are too distracting.

’’Watch the road, please!’’

’’CAW!’’

The peacocks in the backseat agree. Tom glances back to them and blinks. ’’Did you put seat belts over them?’’

’’Of course, I did!’’ Abraxas is appalled at the lack of safety regulative coursing through Tom’s blood. ’’I don’t want them to get hurt.’’

Tom looks out front, raises his hands in defeat, and whispers to himself: ’’I picked this man.’’

* * *

Once the peacocks have been safely taken home and tucked in – Tom squints at this – Abraxas offers Tom to take him out in the countryside where Tom can learn to drive in peace.

Then, very pointedly, Abraxas points to Tom’s new phone. ’’And you can take some good landscape photos.’’

’’I have this phone for emergencies.’’

Abraxas sends Tom a meme. They’re loitering around Abraxas’ car, waiting until they’ve satisfied their meme and social media need. The countryside doesn’t have good reception.

Tom looks at the meme Abraxas has sent him. It’s a pepe meme, but instead of a frog it’s a snake. He feels cherished.

Tom Riddle only needs to look at the rest of the messages to realise that getting Abraxas to send him memes makes only a small part of his day kind, whereas the bigger part is filled with – Tom shudders – messages from other people that he doesn’t even like.

Walburga Black video calls him.

Tom looks at Abraxas in horror.

Abraxas snort laughs into his hand. With his other one he clicks _answer_.


	2. Countryside

A very important aspect about life is having a relationship and being in one that doesn’t leave you worn out or uncomfortable. Tom can’t relate because everything makes him uncomfortable and leaves him worn out.

But Abraxas does this the least, and that’s got to account for something.

Tom even wants to say he loves Abraxas, but when the man clicks answer on Walburga Black’s video chat – a breakup feels imminent.

Walburga Black’s face is not way too close, how Tom’s imagined video chats to work. In fact, she’s sitting farther away all while lamps are hitting her face in optimal angles and giving her a beautiful glow up. This is a woman who has thought of spending her entire afternoon setting up a home studio all so she can lower her Gucci sunglasses, stare directly at Tom Riddle, and exclaim: ’’I’M ON YOUTUBE NOW, RIDDLE! COME AND SUBSCRIBE. I KNOW YOU’RE ON SOCIAL MEDIA. I’LL EXPECT YOU TO FOLLOW MY INSTAGRAM AS WELL, _NATURALLY_.’’ She rolls her eyes and flips her black, curly hair with product more expensive than what Tom uses on his hair for a year.

Tom finds himself nodding along: ’’Naturally.’’ None of this feels natural to him. Very discreetly, he glares at his boyfriend.

Abraxas is waving at Walburga. She pretends not to notice him. He’s already following her everywhere online and expending energy to leave emoji comments. Most of them are just little flames. Tom believes this to be the universal sign of telling someone they are a dumpster fire, but Abraxas just shakes his head no.

The reason why everyone is nice to Walburga, even when she isn’t, is because of her generational wealth that far exceeds that of everyone around her. With one frighteningly long fingernail she can ruin people’s lives at a click of a call button. Phones are too powerful. People don’t need social media on top of them. That’s just cruelty at its finest.

A person holding Walburga’s phone shakes the camera and she smiles, very widely. ’’My dear, Eileen, you aren’t getting paid for your subpar services.’’ Then, something seems to crack in Eileen (who’s been Walburga’s entourage since they were children) and she throws the phone at Walburga.

Abraxas and Tom stare, silently gloating. They have the front seat to watch Walburga’s phone travelling across the room, out the open window, and onto the street. When the call cuts off, Tom turns to Abraxas and whispers: ’’What does she mean I’m on social media?’’

And very sheepishly, Abraxas admits to making profiles for Tom for him to use now that he’s got a proper phone. ’’I only made you an instagram. And Facebook. Don’t worry I made sure to make Facebook very professional for you, but instagram can be where you post memes. There’s this thing that’s called a Close Friends option and – Tom, are you angry? I feel like you’re angry with me?’’

’’No.’’ Tom lies, like a liar, ’’I’m fine.’’

Abraxas, always the more emotionally intelligent of the pair, casually brings Tom into a hug. Tom allows this, because he likes Abraxas hugging him. He always makes him feel very safe. It’s those very big arms of his. Tall man, his Abraxas. When they’re all hanging around they give him their phones to take selfies because he has, and to quote Thoros Nott, ’Slenderman arms’.

Tom inhales and exhales sharply. ’’I don’t like you making this for me behind my back.’’

’’I didn’t post anything on instagram! I just made it!’’

’’Regardless.’’

Abraxas inhales. Counts. Because numbers calm him down. Exhales. ’’Fine, here, I’ll delete it.’’

’’Thank you.’’

’’Even the Facebook?’’

’’Do I really have to have one?’’

’’Yes, in this day and age. Employers want to see that you’re a person.’’

’’I _am_ a person.’’

’’Not without social media you aren’t!’’

’’Then you’re dating a not-person?’’

Abraxas chortles. He’s the only person that can get away with having his laugh described like this. Tom squints. His eyes are really starting to hurt. Maybe he should ask his foster caretaker to take him to an eye doctor. He knows his mother didn’t have the best eye-care. Who knows what else he’s inherited from her. 

’’Leave the Facebook.’’

Abraxas leaves the Facebook be. At Tom’s close inspection he finds it adequate. He gives Tom his phone to look at and delete what he likes while he sits at the driver’s seat to drive them to the countryside.

’’Wait.’’

Abraxas slams on the breaks. Tom lunges forward. Abraxas still has to learn about braking, this he concedes.

’’What is it?’’

’’We’ve got to pack some food. The countryside is half a day trip.’’

’’Oh right, yes.’’ Abraxas gets out of the car and climbs up a multitude of stairs, talks to some Malfoy servant, and then promptly gets a blanket with a basket full of food ready for them. He hands Tom the basket and tells him to go nuts.

Might as well. Tom begins inspecting the contents of the basket and finds that there’s lots of Abraxas’ favourite food. None of this is food that Tom gets to eat on a daily basis. ’’I’m sorry but did Francis really give you caviar?’’

’’Oh wow, Francis really takes good care of me.’’ Francis is the Malfoy butler. Has been since Abraxas was very small.

’’How did you call him when you were a child?’’

’’Dobby.’’ Abraxas turns his head from the road. ’’I have absolutely no idea where I unearthed that nickname from Francis.’’

Tom snaps his fingers and gestures the road. Abraxas scoffs and returns his gaze.

Trees line their surroundings in a greater abundance than before.

Tom gets a message on Abraxas’ phone and it’s from his mother so he announces it in the poshest voice he can muster: ’’Lady Malfoy has decreed unto her son, the illustrious Abraxas Malfoy, to be back by dinner time because some people from Cambrdige are stopping by. She marks upon this occasion by spelling out that dinner time starts exactly at 6pm. She wishes you back by 4pm.’’

’’Well her wish is not my command.’’ Abraxas instructs Tom to leave the message on read. ’’She can invite them over any day, but she picks the day we’re finally back together.’’ He twists his hands around the steering wheel and his knuckles turn white. ’’I’m this close to having her piss off.’’ Then, an idea. ’’Tom, bring me the phone and put on voice message I’m going to go off.’’

Tom, being the voice of reason in this vehicle, refuses to do this. ’’You can argue with your mother when you aren’t driving.’’

Abraxas mumbles a few choice words about his parents. His home life isn’t spectacular currently. Abraxas is playing up the Cote d’Azur, and has been doing so the entire time he’s been there, but he did let slip out that his father’s returned on a different plane ticket.

’’Who are you going to live with?’’

’’I’m staying _here_ . She can move back to France, but _I’m_ staying with dad.’’

Abraxas’ father, Hyperion, likes Tom. Just a tiny bit. He once slapped Tom on the back and good naturedly called him an all right bloke. This was before finding out that his son liked him, back when Tom was just Abraxas’ charity case friend.

They drive in silence, until Abraxas tells Tom to play them some music. Tom plays the first ABBA song his finger runs across.

_Ooh, you can dance, you can jive~_

Abraxas is singing atop his lungs. Tom is swaying in his seat because ABBA is a good band and he won’t disrespect its greatest classic by not at least shimmying when nobody’s looking. They’re Abraxas’ favourite band. Tom’s more of a Jean Michel Jarre fellow.

_Having the time of your life_

Tom’s phone gets a message. He really hates how entitled people have become since finding out he’s got a smartphone. It’s another paragraph long plea from Thoros, begging him for a study session. He finally texts him back, telling him that he’s on a date.

_Ooh, see that girl,_

Abraxas turns to Tom and sings along very hard, with all of the boisterous passion he can muster. This is a lot, by the way. Too much for anyone to be comfortable with.

_Watch that scene_

Tom gets forced into singing the only verse he knows.

_Digging the dancing queen!_

Abraxas clasps one hand into a fist, brings it to his mouth like a microphone, and sings with abandon. Tom laughs at the spectacle, his face strung up into a smile that hurts how wide it is. He’s always been amazed how little Abraxas cares about the respectability of his appearance. Tom doesn’t smile in photographs because he doesn’t trust other people to pick a flattering photograph to post online. His therapist tells him he has trust issues that stem from his going from foster home to foster home. Tom doesn’t see it. He thinks that people are just trying very hard to put him into a box to send away. 

‘’I’m terrified of living alone and paying rent.’’ Tom blurts out. Unannounced and unexpected.

Abraxas stops singing to look at Tom. The music slowly begins to die down. 

Tom doesn’t want to make eye contact. He’s beyond humiliated for letting slip a single thought of anxiety into the world. To add salt to injury, he still can’t shake the feeling that soon enough he’s going to have to live alone, that he isn’t going to be part of a system to care for him, and that it’s going to all go oh so terribly wrong. 

‘’Then live with me.’’ Abraxas has answers for everything. Tom can’t believe what a capable individual he’s chosen to spend time with. He’s just about to thank Abraxas for the option, when Abraxas (who’s not minding the road well enough) runs over a big pothole that’s not been fixed with tax money. 

For good measure the car won’t start up again. 

‘’FUCK!’’ Abraxas slams his fist against the steering wheel. Tom jumps. When Abraxas yells again, this time he’s accustomed to the high pitch. ‘’FUCKING _SHITE_!’’

* * *

They won’t let this get them down. Abraxas is seething as he’s taking the basket and instructing Tom to drape the blanket over the nice field nearby the road. They’re going to have their date and after it’s finished they’re going to call Walburga to come and pick them up. Because Walburga is the only other person that has a licence. None of the Knights drive. Abraxas has learned solely to gain more independence from his parents and to piss off cyclists. He dislikes cyclists with a burning passion. Tom, being one, doesn’t know how to feel about people hating his guts. 

‘’It’s better for the environment.’’

‘’Oh piss off!’’ Abraxas is looking at his flat tyre and shaking his head. He pops the trunk and sees that there is a spare, but that he has no idea how to change one. 

‘’It’s also free.’’ Tom mumbles. Lessons for learning to drive a car cost money. Lots of money, too. A bicycle won’t drain his bank account. Billy and he share the bike. Mrs. Cole makes them get along, but Billy really just wants to punch Tom’s lights out because Tom nearly drowned him one time when they were children. When one thinks about the other foster children, Tom understands why living alone will be a good thing. He anxiously drums his hands against a rock he uses to anchor the blanket. There’s a bug sniffing about the basket. It’s a very big bug. 

‘’Abraxas, come over here - there’s a bug.’’

Abraxas comes over and steps on it. He returns to the car to further inspect it. 

Tom feels like a damsel in distress whenever a bug emerges, because he really hates how ugly they are. Something about them can’t be natural. He can hold his own against bugs fine, but with Abraxas right there, he isn’t above using his boyfriend to help.

Tom sets up a nice luncheon. He sees that Francis packed Tom’s favourite juice. Pomegranate juice. Just because he’s an orphan doesn’t mean Tom can’t have nice things. Well, all right, that does mean exactly that, but his boyfriend is rich and can get him out of seasonal fruit at a drop of a hat. Tom glances at Abraxas, who is creating a hole in the grass from all of his stomping. He’s speaking rapid French, so that means he’s talking to his mother. 

‘’My mother thinks I’m lying about the car!’’ Abraxas has very poor phone etiquette because he hasn’t covered the phone’s microphone. Or maybe that’s the point, Tom’s too exhausted by social conventions to give it his best deduction. His taller half turns the phone to Tom and tells him to tell Yvette Malfoy that the car has broken down and that this isn’t a lie perpetrated by two lovebirds. 

‘’Madame Malfoy, the car really has broken down. Abraxas hit a pothole and the tire went out. There is a spare, but we don’t know how to change one.’’

Yvette’s voice is grating on the ears. ‘’Mon Dieu, you are _both_ idiots.’’

Tom feels like this is very good character development, because usually she’s blamed every single bad thing on Tom. ‘’Merci, Madame.’’ Tom, being a suck up he is known to be to authority figures, tries to speak as much french as conceivably possible to Yvette. He thinks his efforts are finally paying off. 

‘’I will send Francis to pick you up in a few hours. Abraxas, mon fils, ecoute-moi--’’ and then it continues in French. Abraxas’ face does a very strange thing: it lights up at his mother’s words. Tom opens the pomegranate juice and fills two celebratory champagne flutes. It’s a day to celebrate.

‘’Merci, maman!’’

After the woman’s call ends, Abraxas snorts. ‘’The divorce games have begun, I see.’’ He announces them like a bloodsport. Tom sips on his juice. He hands the other flute to Abraxas, who swirls it casually and muses aloud: ‘’Her angle is letting me have my fun with you. She said that the Cambridge people can come another day.’’ 

‘’Didn’t you say that a few minutes ago?’’

‘’I know. But I’ll let her think she’s done me a favour because I can use this to my advantage at another occasion.’’

‘’How?’’

‘’I’ll wait until something stupid father wants me to go to comes up and then go to my mother’s on the basis that I owe her, when in fact I’m just avoiding something even worse.’’ Abraxas shrugs. He sits down on the blanket and smiles at Tom very warmly. ‘’Now, then, how was your summer?’’

Tom thinks back on his summer. There are a lot of children screaming in his memories. ‘’Good.’’ He settles on. ‘’Grand, yeah.’’

Abraxas reclines on the blanket and blows a stray hair that’s dangling over his face. ‘’Last year of secondary school. I’m thinking of doing a gap year, personally.’’

‘’That will only set you back.’’

‘’Ew.’’Abraxas drinks his juice. ‘’How dare you speak to me like that. No, it won’t.’’

Tom scoffs. ‘’Fine.’’ He reclines a little more than before and pushes his legs over Abraxas. Not like the man will complain, Tom doesn’t weigh much. ‘’I’m going to do everything the proper way, thanks.’’

‘’Let’s take our A levels at the same place.’’

Tom, penniless, looks at Abraxas for a very long time and sips his drinks in a very slow fashion. By the time he’s taken his second sip Abraxas concedes that his point has no basis in reality. 

‘’A man can dream, Tom!’’

‘’I mean we’ll still stay in touch.’’ Tom doesn’t want to think about breaking up. But he’s the type of person with a ten year plan, so of course he has to micromanage his love life to the point of doing an excel spreadsheet. 

‘’Of course we will.’’ Abraxas pulls himself closer to Tom and lays in his arms. Tom doesn’t mind this one bit. ‘’After my A levels I’m thinking of maybe even going to Harvard.’’

‘’America?’’

‘’Why not?’’

Tom calculates how much a plane ticket to America costs. He chokes on his pomegranate juice. His face must be very terrible to look at with the expressions of horror he’s involuntarily making, but not terrible enough for Abraxas to stop himself from going in for a kiss. Tom sets his flute down on the ground and muffles an unexpected laugh down. Abraxas takes it only as bigger encouragement. Soon enough Tom’s letting Abraxas do more than just kiss him. 

All in all, it’s not a wasted afternoon. 

* * *

Tom’s eating a prosciutto sandwich while Abraxas is laying caviar on his bread in a thick spread. His blond hair is tousled and there’s a hickey on his throat that makes Tom oddly pleased with himself. His clothes are skewered and improper. Tom will have to fix that before Francis comes to get them. Unlike Abraxas, Tom quite enjoys keeping his appearance perfectly neat. 

‘’You’re very dear to me.’’ Abraxas gets emotional during every single date they’ve ever gone on. Tom is used to it at this point. He takes a bite of his sandwich and lets Abraxas know that he’s paying attention via uncomfortable eye contact. Abraxas continues: ‘’I love you, you old man you.’’

After finishing off his sandwich, Tom replies that he doesn't enjoy being likened to an old man. Abraxas tells Tom that until he gets a Snapchat he will forever be an old man. Tom resigns himself to this life then. Abraxas pouts. ‘’Get a Snapchat, please.’’

‘’Is that the one where the messages disappear after a few seconds?’’

‘’This is the most old man sentence I’ve ever been forced to hear.’’

‘’Answer me.’’

‘’Yes.’’

‘’Why the hell would I ever want to get that? If you’ve got something to tell me, I want it to forever remain in my phone as evidence.’’

‘’But what if I want to send you a sexy photo of myself?’’

‘’Why would I ever want to have naked pictures of another person on my phone?’’ Then, upon retrospect, ‘’why would I ever want to have _any_ naked pictures on my phone?’’

‘’Tom, I worry about you.’’

‘’You’d be the first.’’

Abraxas hugs him then. Tom’s dark sense of humour is not paying off. 

* * *

Abraxas makes the weirdest sandwiches, but Tom is not surprised, because this is a man who gets caviar toppings on pizza. Unironically. 

‘’Eat some caviar.’’

‘’I don’t like caviar.’’

‘’Did you try it?’’

‘’I did. You took me to a fancy restaurant on our first date and ordered the lobster thermidor with a side of caviar. I think you were fifteen at the time.’’

‘’I have really good taste and I shan’t apologize.’’

‘’My idea of a date was getting fish and chips, Abraxas.’’

‘’You did get them in the end!’’

‘’I think the waiter wanted to throw me out when I asked if they had any.’’

‘’They did and it was fine. I can’t believe you ruminate over these things even months later.’’ Abraxas is a forgive and forget person. He doesn’t get cringe attacks. Tom doesn’t believe such a person can exist. 

They pause talking as they eat. Abraxas leans on Tom. Tom’s beginning to think that he’s become a glorified pillow. But he only needs to remember all of the swiped rugby shirts he’s stolen from Abraxas and realises that they’re even. 

* * *

They attempt to take a selfie with Tom’s new phone. Abraxas starts crying tears of frustration when after the fifteenth try he comes out looking like a potato. Tom likes potatoes, he doesn’t get what the big fuss is about. 

Abraxas hands Tom his phone back. ‘’I am going to stop hurting myself because I feel like your phone has taken my good looks hostage and wants to blackmail me for ransom money.’’

‘’I’d tell you to write a book, but I know you hate the written word.’’

‘’It’s math or it’s nothing!’’

Tom vaguely remembers last valentine’s day wherein Abraxas has made an equation for Tom to solve in order to get a combination to a locker where Abraxas has hidden his gift. He still sometimes gets flashbacks to that logarithm Abraxas finds good fun and not at all difficult to solve. 

Nobody is sending Tom messages, thankfully. Abraxas tells Tom that it’s because he’s left his phone on airplane mode. Tom turns it back and he gets swept up in tens of messages from people he doesn’t want to deal with. 

Walburga has left him ten voice messages.

Abraxas clicks play. 

‘’Why do I tolerate you?’’ 

* * *

‘’RIDDLE! I’M NOT ON YOUTUBE ANYMORE, I’VE BEEN CANCELLED!’’

‘’CANCEL CULTURE IS TOXIC AND I HATE IT!’’

‘’WILL YOU COME ON MY TIKTOK?!’’

‘’YOU STILL HAVEN’T ANSWERED IF YOU WANT TO COME TO MY TIKTOK, I’VE GOT A VERY GOOD FOLLOWING ON THERE.’’

‘’RIDDLE, TICK TOCK GOES THE CLOCK, GET ME YOUR ANSWER!’’

‘’I KNOW YOU’RE TRASH, BUT NOT ANSWERING A WOMAN OFFERING YOU A CHANCE TO BE FAMOUS IS REALLY A NEW LOW EVEN FOR YOU!’’

‘’RIDDLE MY PHONE IS BROKEN BUT I WILL LIVE ON!’’

‘’ORION TELLS ME YOU’VE DELETED YOUR INSTAGRAM? GOOD RIDDANCE - BUT WHEN YOU DO COME BACK - AND YOU WILL - I WANT YOU TO LIKE ALL OF MY PHOTOS ON INSTAGRAM UNTIL YOU REACH 2017!’’

‘’I RAN INTO PROFESSOR DUMBLEDORE! RUMOUR HAS IT THAT HE JUST ENDED A VERY LONG RELATIONSHIP WITH A **_MAN_ **. ISN’T THAT INTERESTING? I NEVER KNEW HE BATTED FOR THE OTHER TEAM. ALSO, HE WAS WEARING A GREY SUIT. IT SUITS HIM VERY WELL. A MUCH BETTER IMPROVEMENT TO THAT GOD AWFUL FUSCHIA-CYAN SUIT. DID YOU KNOW HE WAS GAY? OH, BY THE WAY HE STILL THINKS YOU’RE SATANIC. CAN’T SAY THAT I DON’T AGREE WITH THE MAN.’’

Tom deletes the rest of them. 

* * *

It’s dark out and Francis is nowhere to be found. Abraxas’ battery is dead. ‘’Iphones are trash.’’ Tom shakes his superior Samsung. Abraxas deadpans that that phone is not a phone, but a poor imitation of what people assume a phone to be. 

Tom sticks his tongue out victoriously. Abraxas pushes him lightly and knocks him over. 

‘’Sorry.’’ ‘’No worries.’’ ‘’You need to exercise more.’’ ‘’Yeah.’’

They decide to pack up their picnic and go back to the car. Once they’ve done this they decide to sit in the car. It’s chilly outside. Tom doesn’t want to catch anything right before his last year at secondary school. That’s a recipe for disaster. Abraxas is leaning on the steering wheel. They’re playing word games while they wait. Then after Tom wins, Abraxas decides to quiz him on multiplication. 

‘’I’ll give you an easy one.’’

‘’Right.’’

‘’What’s 32 times 45?’’

‘’Abraxas, who do you think I am?’’

They get into an argument about maths, because they haven’t better things to do, until Abraxas slaps a hand across Tom’s mouth to shut his statistics up. Tom narrows his eyes angrily and licks the hand in retaliation. Abraxas grimaces and exclaims a few EWs for good measure. 

‘’Why did you do that?’’

Abraxas finally snaps out of his grimaces to point to a man lugging a big, black bag around in the darkness. He seems dead set on completing his task. On his back, there’s a strapped on shovel. Their car isn’t turned on, because they’re saving gas, so the lights aren’t turned on. Tom’s heart is beating very hard. He very carefully turns to Abraxas and whispers that they need to leave and they’ve got to do so right _now_. 

‘’He doesn’t see us.’’ Abraxas says. And the man really doesn’t. But he’s still lugging around a suspicious looking bag with suspicious contents all while carrying a suspicious shovel on his person. ‘’What if he’s just going to bury his bills? I hear some people do that.’’

_‘’Wot?!’’_

‘’I’ve seen it on the telly.’’

‘’You need to stop watching those reality TV shows. They rot the brain.’’

‘’YOU MADE ME DO THIS, YOU BASTARD! _YOU_ DID THIS TO ME!’’ The man exclaims and instantly Tom’s blood runs cold with fear. Abraxas falls silent. They watch in horror, entrapped in silence. He’s crying and trying to dig a hole in the ground, but it’s quite obvious he’s never dug a single hole in the ground until this moment. 

‘’Do you reckon he’ll spare us if I go there and help him dig?’’

‘’Don’t become an accessory to murder, please.’’

‘’That is a legitimate question. He’s bound to notice us.’’

‘’We need to leave.’’

‘’Listen, _I_ can outrun him. You can’t.’’

‘’Curse my poor physical condition.’’

‘’What if I hold your hand while we run?’’

‘’Then I’ll be dragging us both down.’’

‘’True, but it’s a chance I’m willing to take.’’

‘’Abraxas, you’re too pure for this world.’’

The man is holding onto the shovel now as if a person and dancing in place, crying his eyes out in what Tom assumes is a showing of remorse and regret for the crime being committed. ‘’I WANTED TO BURN EVERYTHING, BUT THE SAFETY REGULATIONS IN MY APARTMENT DISALLOWED ME FROM GOING THROUGH WITH IT- SO NOW I’M HERE, IN THIS FOREST, IN THE MIDDLE OF NOWHERE! YOU DID THIS TO _ME_!’’ He takes the shovel, swings it around, and hits the bag hard with the business end. 

Tom flinches. The man continues hitting the bag without a single inkling that he’ll stop. Abraxas whispers that this is good, that the man will tire himself out and then they’ll try to outrun him. 

‘’Where’s Francis?’’

‘’Does he have your number? Maybe he’s lost.’’

‘’N-no.’’ Tom doesn’t think Francis has his number, and Abraxas’ phone is dead - ergo they’re screwed.

‘’ALBUS, YOU PIECE OF SHIT! YOU’RE TO BLAME!’’

‘’How many people are named Albus?’’

‘’I only know one bastard named Albus.’’

‘’Tom, Tom where are you going?’’

‘’I’m going to shake that man’s hand and thank him for his services.’’

‘’Tom, you don’t even know if it’s the same Albus! Tom, get back here.’’

Whilst trying to stop Tom from getting out of the car, the commotion is enough for the man to turn around in their general direction, make eye contact with Abraxas, and then drop everything he’s doing to go and say hello. 

Abraxas, pushes Tom out of the car, and with super speed gets out himself. Next he grabs hold of his bitter and petty boyfriend and sprints in the other direction. 

Unlike Orpheus, neither Tom nor Abraxas look behind their backs whilst running. 

‘’Wait, wait this is all a misunderstanding!’’ 

Abraxas believes that just as much as he believes that his parents aren’t getting a divorce. ‘’STOP LYING!’’

‘’DON’T TELL A MURDERER TO STOP LYING!’’ 

‘’RUN FASTER, TOM!’’

‘’IS HE RUNNING, TOO?’’

‘’I’M NOT GOING TO LOOK BACK AND GET FREAKED OUT, WAIT - WAIT THAT’S A CAR! FRANCIS!’’

‘’FRANCIS!’’

Then, with a lot more feeling: **_‘’FRANCIS!’’_ **


	3. After Countryside

Tom Riddle is not having a fun time. He's having an asthma attack from all of the running. Francis apparently comes prepared with an inhaler for just the occasion. Tom doesn't look the gift horse in the mouth, but he knows that he's going to ask for Francis' number the minute he gets his breathing under control.

‘’WE JUST WITNESSED SOMEONE TRYING TO BURY A BODY!’’

Francis, much alike any properly trained butler, does not let this get under his skin. ‘’You don’t say?’’

‘’IT WAS TERRIFYING!’’

Francis cranes his arm back to pat Abraxas comfortingly.

* * *

Tom spends the night at Malfoy Manor.

Hyperion looks at Tom. Tom looks at Hyperion.

‘’I’d say no funny business, but honestly I don’t think you even know how to do anything.’’

‘’Thank you, sir.’’

* * *

Abraxas calls Tom interacting with his father a good example of character development.

‘’This divorce is really helping them come to terms with us!’’

‘’I rather think they’re just trying to piss the other parent off by being fully accepting of me.’’

‘’Viva la divorce.’’

Tom scoffs a laugh.

* * *

Hyperion walks into Abraxas’ room after making very loud noises to alert the two of them that there is a guest bedroom ready for Tom. Abraxas, testing the limits of his parents’ willingness to suck up to him, asks if it’d be a problem for Tom to sleep over in the same room. ‘’We’re both pretty shaken up over our shared trauma witnessing that murderer.’’

‘’O-of course.’’ The pain is evident in his voice. ‘’Just… remember that … this is the _family_ home…’’

‘’Don’t worry, dad!’’

Abraxas’ bed is a rather big bed. He opens the covers for Tom to slide in. Even with the both of them in the bed there’s enough wiggle room so they aren’t dying of a heat attack. Tom dislikes sleeping with people because they’re bodies of heat that steal blankets.

‘’Is Albus Dumbledore really dead?’’ Tom questions. He’s staring up at the ceiling.

‘’Professor Dumbledore is a formidable foe and I don’t think he’d go down so easily.’’ Abraxas’ favourite past time is constructing bracket fights with professors. Albus Dumbledore’s chaotic personality makes him a very strong contender. Close up is Professor Merrythought. Maybe she’s even a bigger threat than Albus Dumbledore himself is.

Abraxas leans on Tom’s chest. Tom cuddles up to him. But then it becomes way too hot for this and Tom shoves Abraxas away so hard the man nearly falls out of bed. Nearly.

‘’You’ve got issues, Tom.’’

Tom nods. Then, because they’re in the dark, he articulates himself: ‘’Yes.’’

Abraxas shrugs and tells Tom that sleep is for the weak and the beautiful. ‘’Good night.’’

‘’Wait why would you phrase it like that?’’

Abraxas pretends to snore.

‘’Your memes are becoming worse with age.’’

Then, somewhere around three am – Abraxas wakes up Tom. ‘’Wait, wait, did you tell Mrs. Cole you’re staying over?’’

Groggily: ‘’She doesn’t care, Abraxas.’’

‘’I don’t want the police coming over. My parents aren’t morally sound people. You can bribe the police only so many times.’’

‘’I texted her.’’

Tom Riddle: I’m with Abraxas Malfoy. I will be spending the night.

Mrs. Cole: Ok. Pick up groceries.

A list of groceries follows.

Tom Riddle: I haven’t got enough money.

Mrs. Cole: Can’t your boyfriend buy it for you?

Abraxas tells Tom not to worry about groceries. Tom hisses in parseltongue: _why am I surrounded by cunts?_

‘’I love you, too.’’

Tom blinks. He doesn’t know how to respond.

* * *

Going to school after having witnessed someone burying what is most definitely assumed to be a body has got to be the weirdest experience in Tom’s life.

A weirder experience is witnessing Albus Dumbledore sitting in his classroom before class has commenced, all while grumbling under his breath about clothes. His suit is brown. It has those elbow patches all professors secretly must wear.

Abraxas takes one long look at Albus and screams out: ‘’YOU AREN’T DEAD?’’

‘’No, Mr. Malfoy, I’m not.’’

Abraxas takes a photo of Albus and sees that there’s a reflexion and announces that the man is not a vampire. Tom doesn’t think that that’s how any of this vampire shite works. But he’s rooted in place, absolutely confused and disappointed to have his hopes raised so high by the idea of Albus Dumbledore being tragically murdered by a deranged individual.

‘’But we saw some guy burying a bag in the forest nearby…he yelled your name.’’ Abraxas wants answers. He doesn’t care for the A levels or graduating secondary school. The man demands answers. ‘’Explain!’’

‘’Was he handsome?’’ Albus Dumbledore’s priorities never cease to amaze Tom Riddle.

‘’He was crying, we didn’t yet see.’’ Tom answers. What kind of man can take time out of his escape to look if the killer is handsome?

‘’Yes, he was handsome.’’ Apparently Abraxas is this kind of person.

‘’Gellert.’’ Albus hisses. ‘’He won’t give me back my things I left at his apartment.’’

‘’We really couldn’t care less, sir.’’ Never let it be said that Tom Riddle is not an honest individual. He drags Abraxas to their seats and waits for the lesson to commence.

But Albus Dumbledore can’t stop thinking about Gellert, his apparent ex-paramour.

The entire lesson dissolves into Albus Dumbledore talking shite about Gellert Grindelwald.

‘’The audacity of the man! He took all of my clothes and he – Mr. Malfoy, what did he do to them?’’

‘’Finding out that that bag is a bag full of your very eccentric clothing and not your body parts is somehow worse, sir. I feel bad for the sanity of that man...’’

‘’Where does he live, we want to pay him a visit…’’ Tom Riddle will comfort any man who hates Albus Dumbledore enough to bury his most treasured possessions in a forest in the middle of nowhere.

Albus Dumbledore, inferring Tom Riddle to finally wanting to be on his side, tells them Gellert’s address and tells them both that he will not question their methods.

Abraxas, having caught on to the misdirection and misunderstanding, smiles: ‘’Sir, can we have top marks then?’’

‘’Of course!’’

* * *

Tom Riddle sends a mass text to the Knights.

Tom Riddle: Who here knows how to get to this address?

Avery: I know how to get there.

Tom Riddle: Congratulations, Avery, you’re coming along with Abraxas and me on an adventure.

Avery: I have fear.

Orion sends a photo of the painting The Scream and captions it: Avery realising he done fucked up.

* * *

Abraxas’ car has been fixed. He sits up front like a getaway driver. Tom and Avery are in the backseat.

They find an apartment building, but they have to circle back a bit because Abraxas needs to park the car someplace. At the end they have to leave Abraxas until he finds a free parking spot and head on out on this adventure without him.

‘’What kind of man lives in a place without a garage?’’

‘’No man does this. Only animals.’’

‘’Curse London’s infrastructure.’’

Avery and Tom spend a hot minute talking about London’s infrastructure and how bad it is. They don’t notice Gellert Grindelwald peering above them, out his balcony, and staring menacingly at them.

But they do notice when he yells at them: ‘’No loitering about! Leave the premises unless you live here – but I know everyone who lives here and you aren’t a part of their families. I shall not tolerate the youths ruining my life.’’

Tom yells out, because he’s got a pair of lungs on him when the need arises: ‘’We’re here to tell you to keep up the good fight against that terrible excuse for a human being.’’

Gellert squints. ‘’Albus?’’

‘’Yeah!’’

* * *

They get invited over to tea. Gellert tells them that he doesn’t know how to make tea, but he’ll do his best. And that’s all a person can ask for. Tom isn’t fussy about tea, though Avery looks like he’s one sip away from feigning illness.

Abraxas finally catches up to them and greets Gellert amicably. ‘’I apologise for calling you a murderer.’’

‘’It happens.’’ He fans away.

Gellert is apparently a doctor.

‘’You always lose a few and get called a murderer and have your licence revoked only for it to be given back after it was all made clear to be a misunderstanding. I am not allowed to practise medicine outside of England.’’ Gellert winks. Very slowly and pointedly.

Tom is beginning to think that Gellert Grindelwald is an underground doctor. His English isn’t that good, to be perfectly frank, but it’s the man’s fourth language so Tom can’t tell him shite.

‘’And why did you break up?’’ Abraxas asks the questions everyone else has more tact to dare say.

Gellert sighs a sigh of a heartbroken man. He looks out the window dramatically. ‘’He found someone else. Someone with less questionable code of ethics.’’

‘’That bastard cheated on you?’’

Tears in his eyes. ‘ _’Yes_.’’

‘’Do you know where Albus Dumbledore lives?’’ Tom has the perfect plan. Abraxas looks at him. Avery thinks that anything is better than sitting here and drinking Sad Old Man tea.

Gellert scoffs. ‘’Of course, I know where he lives.’’

* * *

Tom Riddle: Does anyone know where this address is?

Avery: I don’t.

Tom Riddle: You’re coming along whether you like it or not at this point, Avery.

Avery: D: Pls no

Orion Black (Walburga’s unfortunate kin): i know the address, isn’t that prof daftledore’s house?

Tom Riddle: No questions allowed.

Thoros Nott: I’d like to go, too!

Tom Riddle. Sure. I feel neutral about your presence.

Thoros Nott: -_- 

* * *

‘’What’s the plan?’’

With all of his knights gathered around, Tom Riddle steeples his fingers and smiles speculatively. ‘’We’re going to egg Dumbledore’s house.’’

‘’That’s _it_?’’

Tom stops his steepling to level a very potent, very frightening gaze on Orion. _‘’Yes.’’_

* * *

Gellert Grindelwald decides to accompany them on their revenge journey. This is nice of the man, but it’s also good from a practical standpoint. Abraxas’ car can’t take everyone. Well, it can, but Orion says that Walburga wants to come along. Apparently this will make for a good Instagram story, and she’s really giving it her all after her TikTok account has violated the terms and conditions.

So, naturally, they get Walburga to ride with Orion and Gellert.

* * *

This doesn’t stop the woman from calling Tom Riddle. Tom Riddle does not answer. He is a self care icon and he refuses to let toxic people to drain his energy. Energy vampires are the only vampires he believes in.

* * *

Albus’ house is a standard house. It hasn’t got nearly enough drama surrounding it. Abraxas is disappointed. Avery thinks that it’s a house perfect for getting egged. Walburga is not allowed to film this and she hates them all for taking her phone away. But they refuse to get suspended for egging Dumbledore’s house.

‘’FINE!’’ Walburga shouts. She will not film, but she demands to have some eggs to throw at the house herself. After all, Professor Dumbledore did give her a barely passing mark from his subject when she was in secondary school.

‘’I expected more from it somehow.’’ Tom vaguely gestures the house.

‘’It’s not his. He’s leasing it.’’ Gellert comes with all of the relevant information.

Tom takes a handful of eggs, hands some over to Gellert, and tells the man to go to town.

They’ve already checked that nobody is in the house. This is the time of day when Albus takes his sickly sister to the doctor for her therapy. Hearing of this act of kindness and good will does make them rethink their actions.

Until Walburga throws the first egg and screams: ‘’FUCK YOU, DAFTLEDORE!’’

‘’I GAVE YOU THE BEST YEARS OF MY LIFE!’’ Gellert throws his eggs and demolishes a bird house.

‘’YOU MADE ME HATE TRIGONOMETRY!’’ Avery’s voice booms.

Orion silently throws his eggs and hits every bloody mark. Thoros manages to miss every single one.

Tom’s eyeing the window to the man’s bedroom (source: bitter ex Gellert) and thinks that he can make it. He prepares for the biggest throw of his life.

He shoots!

The egg falls down on a step of the approaching staircase.

He fails!

Abraxas, in an attempt to comfort his boyfriend, takes a rock and breaks the window to Albus Dumbledore’s bedroom. He looks at Tom, very proud of himself, and stands at attention, placing his hands to his hips. ‘’Look, Tom, I did a thing!’’

Tom has never been more in love. He grabs hold of Abraxas’ shirt and pulls him in a kiss. Around them is a hail of eggfire and anti-Dumbledore shouting. It’s music to Tom Riddle’s ears. He breaks the kiss and whispers, only for Abraxas to hear: ‘’I love you.’’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is the end of the story !


End file.
